The Boys Who Lived?
by samarianuel
Summary: He was on his way home, after dropping Teddy off, when all of a sudden he passes out, When he wakes up, he finds himself in a cot, with Lily Potter lying on the floor, surrounded by rubble. Then he looks next to him. Where is he? Why are his parents alive? Why is there another baby here? And why is he the only one who seems to notice the resemblance to a certain dark lord?
1. The Whole Problem

Hi. This is my second work ever, and to be honest, i know i'm not that good, and it's a bit rigid, but i'm not sensitive, and any harsh comments on how to improve are welcome.  
Just wanted to make some things clear about this, so everyone who came looking for something else can stop now and not be disappointed later.  
Firstly, this is exploring Harry being simultaneously happy about everyone being alive, and extremely angry that Voldemort is here and no one seems to believe him. So just to be clear, there might not be a sign of an actual plot for a while, so it's going to be a lot of character studies, and what ifs, and then when harry gets older he's obviously going to start wanted to get home.  
Secondly, There isn't going to be any bashing, and i'm going to try and actually write the characters the way i interpreted them to be in the books.  
*Spoilers*  
Thirdly, the way i have made the timeline work may be difficult to explain but i going to try anyway. So the timeline harry is in is just a straight line, but then he gets pulled into a completely separate line, which is almost entirely identical to the one he was in. Then the line he is pulled into goes onto a tangent in a connecting line, that is different from the way that timeline was supposed to go.  
Fourthly (wow this is a bit excessive), i know Voldemort is incapable of love due to his conception under Love Potions, and i tried to represent this in Voldemort, but because of the runic structures, this new Tom will be capable of it. Other than that, he will just be exactly what i think Voldemort would be like if he was shown unconditional love by a family.  
*Spoilers End*  
Finally, this is not a wrong boy-who-lived fic, and in this people assume it was the both of them, so while obviously some have favourites, (because they are treated like characters and celebrities) they are basically both treated the same.  
Thanks if you actually read the note, have fun.

* * *

It was by no means whatsoever a quiet night, It was Halloween after all. Muggle children were scattered over the pavement in brightly coloured costumes, one even had the gall to compliment his 'costume'. But of course this was no costume, for this was the Dark Lord Voldemort, walking through the streets of Godric's Hollow that Halloween night.

However, murder was not his intention.

He had been begged by one of his most loyal followers to spare the family, and let it not be said that the great Lord Voldemort was not a man of his word. In fact, his servant's pleas had helped him develop a new plan, a better one.

If another was going to have the power to oppose him, then he would make it useful.

His new plan involved stunning the couple, perhaps torturing them for authenticity, and then moving onto the toddler, using the very important tool he held in his robe pocket, his old diary. He has studied runes at Hogwarts, and he intended to use that knowledge to completely eliminate any 'Great Enemy' that this prophecy predicted.

He was very simply going to transfer the horcrux from the diary to the child, he was also going to increase the magical core to that of an adult. This would create an ally within the ranks of the enemy! No one would suspect a child, although he may have to alter the body slightly to accommodate the new soul, but he was planning on making sure that only he could see the resemblance between him and the child.

Oh he was very smart. And, of course, credit where credit is due, he had to admit that he may have not thought of this new plan had it not been for the infatuation of his follower for the mudblood girl. He had never understood the desire for intimacy, and it had never bothered him, but oh was it useful to manipulate others with.

It was with that thought that Lord Voldemort entered the Potter household.

"Lily, he's here! Take Harry and run! I'll hold him off!" Yelled the eldest male Potter, of course he couldn't know about the wards Voldemort had constructed around the house that yielded no escape. It was true Gryffindor bravery, he didn't even have a wand, hell, he didn't even have socks on! But this of course served his purposes perfectly, he though with a smirk.

"Ah, how brave, do you truly believe you can hold off the Great Lord Voldemort without a wand?" He asked in a condescending tone.

"Any time I can buy for them is worth my life." Potter spoke, with an uncharacteristically grave tone. He supposed everyone revealed themselves when faced with death.

"I assure you, your bravery will be rewarded, regardless of your blood-traitor status. I do not wish to spill magical blood, James. Cogitatmalum." And with that, he made his way to the bedroom, where undoubtedly the mother was cowering with the child.

He slammed open the door and immediately stunned her, he didn't have much longer before the Order-of-the-Flaming-Chicken turned up. Unfortunately for him, he didn't notice the very faint runes she had been drawing on the carpet with a crayon, the only utensil for her task.

The child didn't seem to be very upset by the whole situation, in fact, it was looking at him with extreme curiosity as he bent over and began to draw the runes, unfortunately for him he also didn't notice the childish scribbles, or apple juice stains surrounding his area of work.

He made very quick work of it, and finally placed the diary in the center of the rune pattern, still not noticing the combination of the scribbles, the desperate attempts at protection runes, or the several stains.

"Dabitvitem."

That was when the house exploded.

* * *

Harry potter was having an ordinary day, something he was just getting used to, and something he found he quite liked.  
He had just dropped Teddy off at Andy and Ted's, and was on his way home, which was actually stating to feel like a home now. It had taken a lot of redecorating, and he was nowhere near done, but with the help of the Weasley women, and most surprisingly, Percy, it was on its way to feeling like a real home.

Oh yes, Percy had really come into his element with the decorating, he had just been visiting, on ministry business, (he was planning to run for minister one day, after all) and he saw the colour charts on the table.  
Harry wasn't really sure what happened afterwards to be perfectly honest, but he remembered that it involved a lot of running around, and colour transfiguration to see what combinations worked best. Just like everything, the ginger had thrown hid very all into the contributions he had made.

Of course, Harry thought it had something to do with Fred. Everyone had mourned the past few months after the war and the Weasleys were no exception. Molly had been staring into the distance a lot, Arthur placing his arm around her. Bill and Charlie had been helping with the rebuilding, after all, there were ward to be placed, magical creatures to be helped back into their habitats, and every able witch and wizard had been helping.

George had stayed in his flat for about a month, before, thank god, Angelina had gone over. No one knew what she said, but he had come out the next day, and was contributing to the morale aspect of post-war society.

Ron and Ginny had mourned, but Hermione and Harry had helped them through it, and they were both starting to get a lot better, but Percy seemed to be throwing himself into work, Harry remembers Fred's death, and he also remembers the look of guilt in Percy's eyes, but he had decided to not push the matter yet, not so soon.

Both he and Hermione had been giving the older Weasleys their grieving space, but Hermione had refused to let Ron suffer along when she could at least try to do something about it. Of course he had agreed, Ron was his best mate, and what kind of friend would he be if he just left Ron in his time of need.

Ginny was a bit more complicated. He did love her, really, but he just didn't think he LOVED her. He had explained it to her, and she understood, thank god, but of course only after a few stinging hexes to uphold her reputation. Ultimately it was all in good nature, and no one was too heartbroken, but they were now very good friends. Hence the help with Grimmauld.

The place had been so much cleaner since Kreacher had decided that Harry was God himself as far as he was concerned, even after much encouragement from Harry and Hermione that he rest a bit. Kreacher was also starting to warm up to Ron and Hermione a lot, since Ron seemed to really love the food Kreacher made, when enough effort was put into it, and Hermione had lessened her efforts in S.P.E.W.

Every one had been far too focused on the rebuilding of laws, towns, and families to pick up hobbies again. Hogwarts had been rebuilt as well, in almost her former glory, which would now be refilled with children once again roaming its halls without fear.

Both him and Ron had chosen not to finish their seventh year, since they both wanted to be aurors, and they rather felt they had plenty of experience in that field. Being the boy-who-lived, (or now the man-who-conquered), and his best friend tended to open doors, and were immediately accepted into auror training without their last year of school or NEWTs. Another year, and they would be professional aurors.

Hermione, however, had chosen to go back, no surprise there, it was Hermione after all, but Hogwarts had opened the floo so that every eighth year could travel between Hogwarts and their homes, after all, they were grown adults and practically war veterans, despite the fact that they were still only 17 and 18, but it was decided that having them living outside Hogwarts was the only option for many students to be able to come back.

All in all, the past four months since the war had been the best ones of Harry's life, so of course it was all going to go wrong soon. It always did, he was like fate's personal chew toy. With his luck, Seamus Finnegan would suddenly become the new Dark Lord and murder him in his sleep.

It was with those thoughts that abruptly, in the middle of a muggle alley, Harry potter gasped in pain before disappearing from that world.


	2. What's Going On?

Just want to say that while there will be no character bashing, they will obviously have flaws. They will be the same flaws that the cannon characters have, as i want to try and stay true to the characters as they are, but there will be changes to Tom and Harry mainly. Harry because obviously he's already an adult, but i won't try to change who that person may be, he won't suddenly start liking books, or something, because that isn't ever really shown to be true to the cannon. (Not throwing shade to any authors that interpret the cannon that way). Tom will obviously be different, as this Tom can feel Love.

Voldemort had emotions, obviously, as Harry often felt them, but because he was conceived on Love potions he can't feel the love like everyone else, but this Tom can. Other than that, he will mostly be the same.

Also i know that it may feel like i'm bashing Harry at times, but bear with me, it won't be forever, and a good bit of plot revolves around Harry's growth and his relationship with Tom.

* * *

When he woke up, Harry was, to say to least, confused and angry. He had just managed to start a normal life, and while he'd known it wouldn't last, he was still allowed to be angry about it.  
Before he even opened his eyes, he registered that he felt weird. Very weird. He felt weak, heavy, very tired, and his scar was hurting. It wasn't hurting the way it had hurt when Voldemort was nearby, it felt more like a fresh cut. There was also an ominous weight on his leg.

After very quickly assessing his 'weird feeling' he opened his eyes, and what the saw was heart-stopping.  
There was his mum, lying on the floor, surrounded by rubble.

There were a thousand thoughts running through Harry's mind, but the main one at that moment was 'What, In, the, holy, fuck?' As he looked closer, he could see that she was breathing, very faintly. She was breathing!  
As he kept his eyes fixed on her, he began to try and explain the situation away, perhaps it was some sort of warped dementor flashback, or even just a nightmare. But it felt so real. Maybe it was time-travel? 'But that wouldn't work', he thought sullenly, because by this point his mother would have been cold. Then he remembered something he had read, while he was revising for his auror entrance exam, a theory that, apparently, was treated by great disdain by the wizarding community;  
Dimension travel.

It was written by someone that Harry thought would really get on with Xenophilius Lovegood. It was the idea that someone could pass through a barrier of sorts, and enter another timeline. When Harry had asked about it, Kingsley had looked at him like he'd just suggested they go hunting for crumple-horned Snorcacks, but never the less, that looked like the only explanation for his situation for the moment, he could explore other theories when he had the whole picture.  
Finally, he managed to rip his eyes from the woman on the floor, to look at himself. The 'weird feelings' explained, he felt slightly less worried about his physical state, but then he looked at the weight on his leg, only to discover a baby lying fast asleep on it.  
'What the actual hell' Harry panicked, 'Well, this backs up the whole dimension travel theory, but really?'

The most noticeable aspect of the child, was the small star-shaped scar on its forehead, near its hairline, over its left eye, opposite to where Harry's was. Tufts of dark brown hair covered its head, falling over its face, lacking the Potter mess that Harry had inherited from his father.

His father!

If his mother was alive, was his father too? Why had Voldemort spared them? Had he, in this universe, decided to keep his promise to Snape? Then how had he, and this other baby, survived? Harry was torn from his plethora of questions by the child, that he had decided was male, which was starting to open bright blue eyes.

"Hwwwr" It smiled at him. He assumed it was trying to say Harry, which was quite cute, and reminded him of Teddy, who hadn't started talking yet, but very much enjoyed making noises with his mouth. It was surprisingly calming for Harry, and it helped clear his mind enough that he noticed the baby looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint where from.

Maybe this was some kid on a play date with him or something, and it was someone who had gone to Hogwarts with him in his world.  
While he was pondering, the other boy had started drooling on him, which wasn't very pleasant. He went to wipe it off, and found that moving his baby limb was slightly difficult.  
'Yay!', he thought in a tone dripping with sarcasm, which was lost on anyone but him, since he was thinking, 'I have the motor skills of a one-year-old, the perfect topping to a perfect situation!', 'Wait", he suddenly felt very apprehensive, 'does that mean…'

"Wegardum levosir" He managed to strangle out, 'Oh perfect'. Harry honestly didn't think he had it in him to react to his one detail, but it would mean communicating with people would be hard.  
"Oh lily!" cried a very familiar voice, as Harry stared at the young face of his very much alive godfather. "Thank Merlin" sighed Sirius, as he checked her pulse, then finally he looked over to Harry.  
"Boys, thank all the stars in heaven you're alive" Sirius ran over to them, looking at their foreheads.  
"Paddy!" The other boy chirped happily, clearly recognizing the animagus.

"Yes Tom, it's alright, I'm here." Sirius mumbled, more to himself than anyone as he picked both children up in each arm, and starting to rock them, but Harry had stopped listening.

Tom

It was him! That was who the baby looked like, granted, he was a baby, but harry couldn't every forget that face, the one gloating over him as the basilisk venom worked its way through his system. How could Sirius not recognise him? Or at least not recognise him as Voldemort? Did Sirius not know what Voldemort looked like? But the main question was; why in Merlin's name was Voldemort a baby, and one that Sirius recognised?  
Harry had to warn Sirius, it must have been some kind of trap! So, with his short, fat, arm, he pointed to 'Tom' and yelled "NO!" at the top of his lungs.

Sirius started at the sudden outburst, "Whoa, Harry it's okay, it's alright, just go to sleep, the order will be here soon, and your mum and dad will wake up, they're both fine, just sleepy, ok? I would wake them up, but I can't, I can't leave you boys alone, no." He trailed off, mumbling once again to himself, looking slightly manic.  
Harry could understand, Sirius had just nearly lost half the people he loved in one night, and while he didn't want to stop trying to warn him about Voldemort, who was now fast asleep again, drooling on Sirius' shoulder, Harry didn't think Sirius needed any more stress, and Voldemort didn't pose a threat currently right? He could have attacked at any time, but he had chosen not to, maybe he was waiting for Dumbledore? No, that was unlikely, if that was his plan, he could just hide, not confound Sirius and pretend to be a baby.

Despite Harry deciding that the baby from hell didn't pose a current threat, he stayed tense, ready to react to any attack; it was a natural reflex from, well, the Dursleys, his school life, the War, and after the war. It was difficult to suddenly deny years of, well, it couldn't be muscle memory, now could it?

Maybe aspects from his adult-self had transferred to this form, surely his magical core had too, otherwise he would feel it being weaker, and it certainly wasn't by any means weaker. That was another question, if he stayed like this, would this body react as though this was his natural core size, and if so, did that mean, if stayed like this, it would grow as a child's would?  
Wait, that wasn't necessary, he wouldn't be staying, he was sure everyone back home was already working on a way to get him home. 'Except,' he thought with a sinking feeling, 'no one knows I'm here at all.'  
Harry had taken to travelling through alley ways after the war, otherwise he was constantly bombarded, by requests for autographs, or invitations for dinner, and it made getting around a huge hassle. He had been alone when he was coming from Ted and Andy's, and that meant no one knew he was here.

However, that also meant that he wasn't sent here, he was pulled here by some unknown force. Maybe it had something to do with how him and Satan-baby had survived this time around. Speaking of, if he looked closer at 'Tom's' scar, it looked as though it had just been caused by rubble, after all, Harry had seen a lot of injuries in his life, and during the battle of Hogwarts, there were a lot of people that had both curse wounds and rubble wounds, and that looked like a rubble wound to him.  
At least it explained a bit about his situation, because he now knew that Voldemort had still sent the curse at him.

He was on the verge of falling asleep, after all, being held by Sirius was extremely comforting, when Dumbledore, McGonagall, Remus Lupin, and James Potter burst through the remains of the door.  
"She's alive, I don't know how, but she has a pulse." Sirius said helpfully as James stared at Lily with a look of desperation. After seeing that Sirius was holding the two boys, and with a quick "Rennervate !" and then some holding and whispering to each other, both the older Potters were looking at (their?) children worriedly.

A chorus of "Are they Okay?" and "But how?" was interrupted by Dumbledore.  
"I believe I know what has happened here, if you would all allow me to speak." He said with an authoritative tone, and a familiar twinkle in his eyes.  
"You all know of the prophecy, and I believe that Voldemort had fulfilled his end, and marked the child as his equal."  
"But who Albus? Which child did he mark?" Cried McGonagall impatiently.

"I believe it was both." He replied. " The prophecy directly refers to a 'Power the dark lord knows not', I believe that one of the boys is the 'Power' and the other is the equal, but only with the power, which means that it doesn't matter which boy is equal, because he is only equal with the other standing by his side."  
'Well,' Harry thought 'The old man can justify about anything. I really shouldn't be surprised that this is his conclusion.' He supposed it made sense if no one knew otherwise, and the old man wouldn't want to separate children into possible favourites, but whether or not Dumbledore believed this theory was the question.

Harry felt himself being handed over to his mother, had couldn't suppress a small giggle at the whole situation, this was the breaking point he supposed, being handed to the woman he had wanted to know his whole life. Of course this small giggle looked completely normal to anyone looking at him, he was a baby, but Dumbledore looked at him oddly, and Harry met his eyes, trying to get across his situation, and get help in going home.

"That is odd." Dumbledore mused aloud.  
"What?" Demanded James, worry replacing a look a pride.  
"Young Harry has perfect Occlumency shields." Was the puzzled reply from Dumbledore.

'What?' Thought Harry, 'I'm crap at Occlumency, and it's not like I've tried since fifth year either!' Unless, in this world something else had happened, other than being hit by the killing curse, which would make sense, after all, how would he have survived if no one had died? But he was still a Horcrux, he could feel it. He could feel a familiar greasiness under his forehead, which he had only noticed due to the lack of it during the past few months. This was impossible! No one had died, how could he be a Horcrux again?

But Dumbledore must have noticed Harry's confused and panicked look, because he suddenly had a glint of suspicion in his eyes. That expression wasn't unusual on a baby, but he must have looked quite different to a regular baby. He had disturbing intelligence in his jaded eyes, and he was completely tense, prepared to run or attack at a moment's notice, something that looked quite out of place on a baby.

"Occlumency?! Albus, that can't be right, the magical required to do that would have to be a young adult's at the very least! You can't possibly be suggesting-"  
"James." Dumbledore interrupted, "I am merely suggesting that something has happened, that no one outside this room may ever know about." He continued after a round of nods, "I believe that some of Voldemort's powers may have transferred to the boys, I don't know how it will emerge, but I will explain this to you all in detail in my office tomorrow morning, for now, I suggest we all go and get some much needed sleep. Soon word will be spread all over the country that Lord Voldemort has been defeated, and I'm afraid these boys will soon be emerged in the world of popularity and politics. Let them enjoy their childhood while they can." He finished.

"I suppose you're right Albus, see you tomorrow." Sighed Lily, looking very tired all of a sudden, "We can stay at potter manor, can't we James?" At his affirmative nod she took Harry downstairs and walked through the floo with Harry.  
It was then that Harry couldn't fight sleep any longer, but as he drifted off, questions still raced through his mind.


	3. Decision Time

When Harry came to, it was in a cot that looked to be brand new, or rather freshly conjured. That made sense, it seemed like no one had inhabited the manor for quite some time. He vaguely wondered if this is where his father was raised, or if it was at Godric's Hollow, surely Sirius mentioned something about it when he told Harry about his running away. He couldn't quite remember to be honest.

He looked to his side and sure enough, there he was, the Voldemort baby. He must have been placed in the same cot as him to save energy, apparently conjuring furniture was fairly tiring. Especially after the night the family had, it was quite obvious why sharing space might be helpful.

Harry took full opportunity of his consciousness to look over the other child properly, he just needed to see it to really believe it, but there he was, the same boy that he encountered in the Chamber of Secrets, all those years ago. As a baby of course, It was rather difficult to tell, considering that most babies look pretty much the same, but this was a face seared into his memory, as he died on the stony cold floor, leering down at him gleefully.

He suppressed a shudder, 'Complete psychopath, even at that age.' So there was the question. Was this boy next to him the evil man that had ruined his life, along with so many others, in so many different ways? There was no chance that this was some cosmic coincidence, even he wasn't that unlucky. This boy must have something to do with Harry's transportation between dimensions, he just had to.

Either way, Harry just couldn't risk falling for this trick, whatever it was. If it wasn't to attack Dumbledore last night, it was clearly supposed to be some sort of long-con evil scheme. He wasn't going to fall for it, he had too much experience with Snake-face to make the same mistakes again.

But this was insane! He was thinking as though he was staying here! But then, would that really be so bad?

'No! Harry don't you dare, you don't belong here, you have to work on a way home, or a way of communicating to the order!' Shrieked the voice in his head that sounded much like Hermione.

'But it's the only chance I'll get to know my parents, to be back with Sirius again, and Remus, and everyone that died. Am I not allowed to be selfish just this once?' Reasoned the same voice he heard when he was under the Imperius.

'And what about your friends, back home? You're just leaving us? I thought you were better than that, but I clearly not.'

'I'm not leaving you forever, maybe a few years, I'll start working on a way home as soon as I can, but I just want time. Is that so wrong? Everyone at home has each other, you and Ron are finally together, Neville and Luna had started seeing each other when I left, you all seem happy. You can survive a few years of me getting to know my parents. And what about the friends I'm not leaving? What about the ones that died? The ones that might never have to die if I'm here?'

The Hermione like voice went quiet for a moment, 'It isn't your place to change the fate of this world, and what about the Harry here, the body you're inhabiting? What if you're preventing him from growing up with his parents?'

'I know there are a lot of risks, and I know it's selfish, but what if I'm not? What if the Harry who's body I'm in is dead, and leaving would leave some sort of vegetable, or worse? Which is crueller, leaving my friends for a few years, to get to know my parents, or going home, and leaving a baby's corpse for my parents to cry over? And if the other Harry is still existing and fine, he'll be back in a few years.'

That was it, he was going to stay, for a few years, and work on a way home. This was a manor, there must be a library of sort around here, but in the mean time, couldn't he enjoy this twist of fate that had brought him to the people he had hoped, for all of his life, to meet? Yes, he thought. He was definitely going to stay.

And with that thought, Harry had just changed the course of a history.

But of course that meant he had to pretend to be a regular 15 month-old. Well, he could be an intelligent 15 month-old. He had researched about when kids learned how to read, while he was looking after Teddy for the weekend, and he knew it often around four or five. Harry wasn't a huge reader to be honest, but he would have to start reading to research how to get home, so he supposed he could try to pretend to read at three, if he was pushing it.

However there was still the issue of last night, he had Occlumency shields. Perfect ones, from the sound of it. They had to be some kind of result of the Dimension shift, and frankly, it was very odd. He didn't feel any different from usual with them, but that was probably the point, it wouldn't be very convenient to become emotionally dead or something, as much as Snape had seemed to be at times.

Or, of course, they had somehow been caused by the murder-toddler next to him. That was another important issue to think about if he was staying there, what to do about 'Tom Potter'. He couldn't say anything to anyone, it would then involve revealing himself, and then he would have to leave prematurely. It was probably safe to keep watch, for now, as this did look like a long-con, likely even years long. But that didn't mean by any means that he would fall for the act.

As though sensing he was being thought about, the devil himself, ('literally', thought Harry) began to blink his big blue eyes open. After yawning slightly, he caught sight of Harry, and a joyful smile appeared on his face.

'Hawwy' He clapped happily. Harry remembered babies usually start speaking at about 1, which he learnt from his research for Teddy, which would obviously be coming in handy with blending in, but Tom seemed to have some difficulty with his Rs, very common with babies. It was usually one of the hardest noises to pronounce.

While he thinking, the other boy had clearly become agitated by his lack of response, and had collapsed on his leg, in some sort of pseudo-hug.

'Well, if there was ever a time to learn how to use baby-arms…' Harry sighed, as he attempted to move his arms to push the other boy off him, it was more difficult, considering he was used to adult coordination, but he was clearly a bit more able than the other boy at least, because he easily grabbed the other boy's shoulders, and pushed him away.

After a moment of surprised silence, Tom cried out in sheer rejection.

'Bloody hell, you would have thought I broke his heart!' But then, to a toddler, this must seem like exactly that. It was that scene that James Potter walked into, a little Tom crying his little heart out, and an oddly exasperated looking Harry.

"Oh dear, what happened here, hmm?" He asked, more to himself, as he picked up Tom, and began to rock him on his hip. Tom quickly calmed down, soon giggling as James made ridiculous faces at him. Harry didn't notice the passage of time; he was staring at the man he now knew to be good with small children, or at least cheering them up. Harry was staring at his face, almost greedily, memorizing every detail, that dent on his nose from wearing glasses constantly, the warm hazel eyes, the slight chip on his right canine, possibly from some prank-gone-wrong that he dying to learn about.

'Well,' he thought, 'a few years definitely won't hurt.'

* * *

Hi, just thought i'd let you know that there's going to be a poll.

I'm going to give Harry and Tom a little sibling. Bear in mind that the character won't be huge, they'll be a younger sibling, and won't do much for several years, and will be basically absent while the boys are at school. I just thought it'd be nice to add to show the different relationships in this story. This will be the only sibling they receive, James and Lily aren't machines you know, sometimes i feel bad for them in other fanfictions, it seems like they never get a moment of child-free peace.

The poll is just on whether the sibling is a girl or a boy. I know that a girl might even some things out, but having three boys would be quite a cute little trio. Please do vote if you're interested.


	4. Happy Birthday!

Harry was thrilled. It was the night before his fourth birthday! This meant he could finally start acting a bit more grown-up, not that being pampered by his parents would ever get old. Birthdays in his childhood had never meant anything good, it was just a sign he ready for more, and harder, chores, and maybe a clothing hanger. The best present he had ever gotten from the Dursleys was the 50p coin they sent him for Christmas.

When he had turned 11 and gone to Hogwarts, yet another world was opened to him, the world of gifts. It had taken him by surprise to get his first ever group of presents, especially since he hadn't gotten anyone else anything, a mistake Harry had ensured to fix the next possible opportunity. Even though he had been getting presents regularly for the past decade of his life, the excitement never wore off, just spending time with his loved ones was all he ever wanted, and now he had the two people that were always missing from his life.

But of course two other people were missing from the next day's celebration; Ron and Hermione. He missed them so much, but his mother and Mrs Weasley didn't seem to know each other that well, which he supposed made sense, they didn't go to school at the same time, and with so many children around the house it wasn't exactly a necessity to sort out play dates. However, in Ron's place, Neville had been visiting constantly.

As it turned out, when Dumbledore had called an Order meeting the night Harry arrived there, the Longbottoms had narrowly missed being tortured to madness. The meeting had been called at exactly the moment Neville would have lost his parents to insanity, and in this universe the Longbottoms were a happy family of three, just as they should have been all along. Neville was a very cute and shy child there as well, so no difference there, but he was very attached to Harry now, after all he had grown up with him, and Harry was glad that this time Neville wouldn't grow up alone, without parents, or without friends.

Dumbledore was coming tomorrow as well. Ah Dumbledore, an emotionally confusing fellow. While he had essentially raised Harry in a cruel way and told him to die, Harry could also see the other side of the argument. While he HAD left Harry at the Dursleys and never checked on him, he did literally post a spy to constantly monitor him for his safety, it wasn't her fault she didn't pick up on anything, he was just skinny, (but it wasn't helped by the starving) he never had bruises, (Uncle Vernon did use the belt on him when he misbehaved or did magic, but it was never hard enough to break skin. He always looked very uncomfortable afterwards, and gave him frozen peas, before locking him in his cupboard.)

Then there was the whole "I need you to die" thing, but really, it was a war that an old man was desperately trying to end. If Harry was given the choice between letting one person die, and hundreds, he knew which one he'd choose. Besides, it obviously wasn't an easy choice for Dumbledore, Harry had seen the memory, had seen the misery in Dumbledore's eyes, he knew that if he could have, Dumbledore would have exchanged his life for Harry's without thought. All in all, Harry knew that Dumbledore had made mistakes, but he knew why. It was difficult for him to hate someone that was like a grandfather to him. Dumbledore was no master manipulator, just a very desperate man. Besides, Harry COULD hold everything he did to Harry against him, but he didn't want to be that kind of person, who is just consumed by resentment, then he'd be no better than Voldemort, who essentially started a war because he couldn't get a job.

In addition to Dumbledore and Neville, some members of the order were coming, along with Sirius and Remus. The past few years had been absolute bliss, spending time with a comparatively more sane Sirius, and a Remus that didn't have a constant glaze of misery in his eyes. He heard stories all about their time as the marauders, however, he noticed that the stories always seemed to miss Wormtail, who was currently locked away in Azkaban. They probably didn't want to be asked any difficult to answer questions about him.

Harry knew he was frankly awful at being a toddler. He found it difficult to dumb himself down too much, something he knew was suspicious, along with his clear sense of consciousness that other young children lacked. Sometimes he'd see his mother looking at him with a hard to place look, or even occasionally both his parents talking with Dumbledore, glancing at him worriedly. Whenever this happened he strove to act as childish as ever. He had already overcome milestones far too fast for children, and right after he passed one, so did Tom.

Clearly the mini-monster decided that Harry was a real toddler, and that if a real toddler could pass these milestones quickly enough, so could he. He didn't plan to confront Tom about the whole lie, because it was better if he did believe that Harry was just a normal kid, it meant he could fly under the radar. Luckily for Harry it helped lend to the "I'm just an advanced child" story that Harry had going, he hoped that his parents just thought that they had very smart children. Soon he'd even be able to start reading.

Another thing Harry had noticed was his magic. His adult magical core had travelled with him to his body, and from what Harry vaguely remembered from one of McGonagall's off-topic rants, magical cores are intertwined with the body, essentially the body lets the core know how big it should be growing according to the body. This didn't quite mean that size defines power, but Harry couldn't really remember how it worked, something about childhood? Either way, his body was treating the new core just as it would a normally aged one, and it was growing. Harry had an above average core before, but now Merlin knew how powerful he would be when he grew up. When he grew up. Right. Of course. Now he was going to be reading age, which meant he could finally research his condition, and find a way home.

The past few years had been spent at Potter Manor, which his mother had decided was an excellent opportunity for a revamp. While they knew they didn't need the space, they had never gotten around to buying another house, and eventually decided there was no point when there was a house right there. Potter Manor had a library, which Harry fully intended to use for researching a way home. He know how selfish he was being, just by being there, scaring his friends, maybe they had even thrown a funeral, with everyone barely done grieving for those lost in the war, they didn't need to lose him as well.

Well it was far too late to say something now, and he was about to start finding a way home anyway.

After his party of course.

Well it wasn't just his party, oh no, for some reason this Voldemort baby was not just his brother, but his twin. Of course. Why not? He had been a constant dampener on the past few years of joy, and Harry couldn't even yell at him. He tried his best to keep hidden his dislike of the other boy, but it must have slipped out a few times. This wasn't exactly the end of the world, plenty of siblings practically despised each other, a bit of squabbling between young children was nothing, but he couldn't help but feel like his parents had picked up on it.

OH! What was he thinking? He was just making his enemy hate him even more, this version of Voldemort had no reason to despise Harry just yet, surely no matter what his plan was, it could be much smoother if Voldemort liked him, and besides, if he let his "unwarranted" hatred show, it would only serve to make Tom suspicious. Well that settled it. Harry had to work extra hard to be a good little four year old that loves his brother.

He almost missed the Dursleys.

* * *

"Wake up Harry!" Came a high pitched squeal, pulling Harry from sleep.

"What time is it?" Harry questioned in a disgruntled tone, wiping the sleep from his eyes to see Tom sitting on his bed, face hovering close to his.

"Who cares, it's your Birthday!" Came an excited yell from the doorway, where Harry could see his parents standing next to Remus, sighing as Sirius ran towards the bed. As Harry was swung around in the air, he realised that time isn't something four-year-olds should have a sense of, and immediately tried to rectify his slip by squealing extra loud, drowning out the "me too!" from Tom.

Soon, when both the children had been returned to the ground by respective adults James walked over to the boys and handed them each a carefully wrapped package. As they both tore into the presents joyfully, even the fact that Tom was next to him couldn't ruin the moment.

From the scraps of paper Harry neatly pulled out a shirt, a cute little green polo, underneath was a set of dark grey trousers, and some red trainers, Harry looked over, and saw Tom pull matching clothes from his package, but instead of Green and Grey, his shirt was blue, and the trousers were brown. Oh, like their eyes and hair, maybe his trousers were meant to black.

"They're your birthday outfits!" Lily explained enthusiastically, "And look, they match!" They did indeed, thought Harry, he pushed down a grimace and pulled his most authentic smile at the adults, who left them to change, (They had both insisted at three that they could dress by themselves) but as he left, Remus gave Harry a strange look. Maybe he didn't buy the smile. Woops. Oh well, he'd make it up in childishness later.

"I can't believe we're actually four now, we're so old!" Chirped Tom, bringing Harry's attention back to the other boy, who was already getting changed.

"Yeah, it's really cool." Harry answered, with as much excitement as he could muster, just being next to the other boy seemed to suck the good mood from him. "What presents do you hope you get?" He asked politely, which seemed to electrify Tom. Hmm, thinking about it, Harry didn't really ask Tom many questions.

"I really want some books so I can learn to read, I think I'll be good at it, and we'll both be able to go to the library, and I also want a real broomstick, not the ones that only go up a meter, so we can both play quidditch! I want to be keeper, or maybe a beater, what about you, Harry?" Came the eager ramble, maybe he was just happy to speak to Harry, it wasn't a common occurrence. Yes, the one present Harry hoped to get was a real broom, the only time he had felt truly free was when he felt wind blowing against his face, gripping his broom.

"I want to be a seeker."

"I think you'd be good at that, and that means we can all play, because I can be keeper, and you can be a seeker, and we can play with Dad and Sirius, and maybe we can persuade Remus to play, and maybe even Neville, and then we'd almost have a team, and we could get all the other kids to be on the other team, or maybe we should just play with the other children to make it fair, but we'd still win because we'll be better than them." Wait, other children?

"What other children?" Harry cut the likely endless ramble short.

"Oh, the other kids, mum says she invited a bunch of them over today, I think she want us to have more friends, I mean, we only know Neville really, which isn't bad, but I think that they think that we're lonely." Tom answered, either the feeling of excitement over being able to talk to Harry was wearing off, or someone had stayed up late waiting for their birthday. Harry had a feeling he knew which one it was.

Now fully clothed in their "Cute" Matching outfits Tom joyfully lead Harry by the hand downstairs, which Harry allowed, remembering his promise last night. This seemed to excite Tom even further, wow, Tom was a surprisingly excitable boy, no. Stop thinking like that, Voldemort was acting like an excitable boy. Ugh, maybe it was easier to pretend Tom really was a child if he wanted to keep up the act.

By the time they reached the living room, Tom was practically vibrating with the combined thrill of holding Harry's hand and receiving presents.

Multiple boxes and packages were scattered over the coffee table. Tom wasted no time in ripping into each one wrapped in blue (Harry thinks his mother had a thing for colours and colour-coding, she must have picked the outfits as well). Harry quickly followed his example, but after a few moments he realised sadly that there were no broomstick-shaped presents, oh well, maybe next year then. He still opened his presents with gusto, neatly pulling tape from paper.

He got several starter books, a thick, woollen, dark red jumper, and an enchanted miniature Dragon, just like in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Tom received the same, but luckily not the exact same gifts, his jumper was a muted, dark gold, (Wow, colour symbolism again much?) different books, and a different kind of Dragon.

"Do you know what kinds of Dragons these are boys?" James asked, once they were both released from their mini cages.

Harry inspected his own Dragon, it was black in multiple tones, but he had no idea which breed it was. Looking over to Tom's Dragon he recognised it pretty much immediately, "Hungarian Horntail" He answered pointing to the dragon clutched in Tom's little hand.

The occupants of the room looked at Harry in surprise.

"Well done, Harry, and what about yours?" He shook his head silently.

"Well, that, Harry, is the Hebridean Black, it's a Scottish dragon, very fierce, and scary."

"Just like Harry!" Tom exclaimed happily, smiling at him. Everyone shared a little laugh, as Harry stared into its tiny purple eyes.

After moment Tom looked around, and realised the same thing Harry had. There were no broomsticks. Seeing his distraught face, Remus butted in.

"Well there's still one more present for each of you. Sirius was desperate for you to have these, and I talked with your mother and we agreed that since you're both so mature, you can have these." Said Remus, smiling gently as Sirius pulled two boxes, seemingly from nowhere. Harry could feel his face light up in the first genuine smile of the day, as he ran over and tore away the packaging, much more violently than the other gifts.

"Now, they do still have limits, they only go up to 15 meters, but that's more than plenty of height. We really want you to be responsible with these, okay?" Lily clarified, but both boys were embroiled in wrapping paper and holding CleanSweap 6s, the very best brooms at the time.

"Can we play with them now?" Asked Tom, looking hopeful, doing his best puppy-dog expression.

"Yeah, can we?" Sirius and James joined in, looking at Lily and Remus with similar expressions. Remus looked close to breaking, but Lily intervened before he could concede.

"Fine, but you have to eat breakfast first, I've made pancakes for your birthday." That was all it took for three of the four to start jogging to the kitchen, (honestly the house was huge) Harry however stood still, looking at his broom.

"What's wrong Harry?" asked Remus as Lily left to control any chaos ensuing in the kitchen.

"How will I know that this is MY broom, what if Tom picks mine up by mistake?" He knew it was silly, but this was a gift from his parents, the best gift he may have ever gotten, even if it wasn't really his first broom, it felt like it. He didn't want Voldemort to have it, even by mistake.

"Well, how about I make it a different colour for you? Then it'll be easier to tell the difference?" Harry nodded shyly. "How about I make it darker, to match your Dragon? It's just like your hair, isn't it?" Harry nodded again, and with a wave of his wand, Remus had stained the wood a darker shade, and the metal clasps changed from bronze to gold, all in all, it looked quite cool, if not a bit gothic.

"Come on now, Harry, or all the pancakes will be gone," Remus lead Harry towards the kitchen.

This was, possibly, the best birthday ever.

* * *

They were standing in the grounds outside, and James was explaining safety rules to both him and Tom, who looked like he was going to explode. Everyone was in full gear, including him, Tom, James, and Sirius. Lily and Remus were sitting on conjured chairs nearby, just in case anyone fell, (That included Sirius, who was a good player, but had a habit of falling off his broom).

Finally they were allowed to mount, and Harry tuned everything else out, including James instructing them to push off gently, and flew up into the air. He immediately felt as exhilarating rush, as his hair, (lightly shorter than he used to have it) blew into his eyes. He flew a perfect loop, before flying laps of the makeshift pitch, and suddenly became acutely aware of all the eyes on him, oh no, he shouldn't be this good!

He found himself calming immediately, he had been really good his first time when he was eleven as well, besides, his body was clearly capable of the moves already, his only worry was that he'd be in trouble, and have his broom taken away. Deciding to make it quick and see if he could pretend it was an accident he slowed to a stop next to the small group hovering in the air above where they'd been standing.

"THAT. WAS. AMAZING!" Sirius squealed, bouncing on his broom ecstatically. James also gave him a massive grin.

"Well done Harry!" Smiled Tom, looking nervous suddenly.

James picked up on this immediately and turned to Tom. "Tom, that was great wasn't it? Well, I think Harry here has already got loops down, maybe you can show him how to fly without nearly giving us a heart-attack." His voice got louder towards the end, as he kept glancing at Lily.

With smile, Tom started flying laps with Harry, who was too happy to care that Tom was there, which Tom took to mean that he was welcome to continue following Harry. Soon there was a slow-paced, low flying quidditch match, with just chasers and a keeper, Harry had to begrudgingly admit Tom wasn't a terrible keeper, but he still tried his hardest to win. Even though he knew James and Sirius let him win, he was still quite impressive with how much of a fight he put up.

A few hours and a lunch break later they went inside to change back into their new outfits before the guests arrived, nothing could dampen the moment, not even Tom grabbing his hand as they walked up the stairs to their room. Things were really looking up for Harry, now he just had to get through a party. Oh boy.


	5. Party Time

Harry and Tom stood at the door, greeting each guest as they arrived with smiles and "adorable" handshakes, (In the words of Sirius, who was trying very hard not to squeal). Many commented on the matching outfits, and with every mention of the near identical attire, Harry found himself grinning less and less.

But it was nice to see so many familiar faces, members from the order had been flitting around the manor for the past few years, but none of them had ever really been introduced to the children, clearly James and Lily had decided they were old enough to broaden their horizons. Which accounted for the large amount of children that turned up at their door step, some of which Harry recognized from Hogwarts.

These were Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, Cedric Diggory, and Terry Boot. Oh, and Neville of course, but that was a given. Most of the order Harry recognized showed up as well, Mad Eye Moody giving them both a one over with his eye, and grunting a short "Happy Birthday" under his breath, and Kingsley Shacklebolt rushing after him, shooting an apologetic look at Lily, who was supervising.

It was thrilling to 'meet' each order member. Then Snape arrived. Lily had given him a welcoming smile as she greeted him, and then surprisingly, James walked over to him, and shook his hand.

"Thanks for coming." James said, giving him a meaningful look. Even Snape himself looked surprised. Was this what would have happened in Harry's time? If James had lived, could he and Snape have made up? Lily looked near to tears, with a smile on her face as she walked over to the two, beginning a conversation, she had clearly been wanting to have for years.

This was a very heart-warming moment, but then Harry saw them. He'd know them anywhere. Those freckles, the ginger hair, the admittedly scruffy clothes. It was the Weasleys, walking in a chaotic precession, conversing with each other passionately, Harry could see the twins laughing with Percy about something stupid he'd said, he could see a spotty teenager Bill, with rebelliously long hair just past his shoulders, he could see Charlie looking down, sniggering over some unseen thing, he saw Mr. Weasley attempting to carry a fidgeting, excited-looking Ginny, and finally, he could see a tiny Ronald Weasley, his best friend, holding his mother's hand, being trailed along sullenly.

Harry could hardly stop his eyes from watering slightly, he had missed his friend so much in the past few years, and he currently had the emotional strength of a four-year-old, so even not crying should have been a larger achievement. Luckily no-one was watching, and he quickly wiped the moisture away.

"Hello there dear, my name is Molly, your mother invited us along, could we please just come through?" She asked, after a few seconds of Harry standing motionless, realising that ten pairs of eyes were currently trained on him, he pulled his most genuine grin, and it came easily.

"Yes Mrs- Molly" He said, catching himself before he fell back onto his old habit.

"Oh, just Molly will do, dear" She smiled at him, "this is my son, Ron, that's Charlie, that's Bill over there, those two are Fred and George, next to Percy, and this is my daughter Ginny." She introduced them, gesturing at each mentioned child.

"Hello Molly, my name is Tom, and this is-"

"Harry, my name is Harry." Harry interrupted, he'd be damned if Tom started introducing the both of them like that.

"Well it's lovely to meet you boys, I'm just going to find your mum and dad." Mrs. Weasley smiled as she walked through the large arching doorway, joining the conversation between the hosts. As she walked through, the eldest two Weasley boys walked over to a corner near the food table, likely to escape the many young children that were running around, playing with enchanted, indestructible balloons. Ginny was released to join the moving chaos of girls and boys, while Arthur struck up a chat with Shacklebolt and Moody, who looked to be having a hushed argument until Arthur joined them.

This left four ginger boys grinning down at Harry. Well, no, it left three grinning, taller boys, and one short, sullen looking Ron.

"So who's birthday is it then?" Asked one of the twins, looking between Tom and Harry. Before Tom could open his mouth, Harry answered "Both, we're twins" as he tried to keep a straight face. It was very difficult to hide a grimace at the word "Twins".

"Cool, so are we! But you probably guessed that!" Exclaimed the other one, who Harry could have sworn was Fred. "It'd be difficult not to," he pressed on, "Even though I am better looking!" he smiled smugly at George.

"Not this again." Moaned the gangly-looking Percy, "Please just shut up, or I'll shave the both of you. Again." As weird of an insult as it was, the twins looked at each other in some sort of fear before running off, apparently to talk to Cedric Diggory. Percy quickly followed them over, seeing a chance to talk to someone closer to his own age that wasn't related to him.

"Hi." Harry said dumbly to the sulking Ron. "How are you?" Harry inwardly cringed, Ron clearly didn't want to be here, and he really wasn't good at small talk, usually people just talked at him until they left, he almost never had to try very hard. It felt unnatural to be speaking to Ron as anything less than a brother.

"Fine." Came the short reply. Wow, What was going on? Before he could voice his thoughts, however, Tom, who he had forgotten was there, spoke up.

"What's wrong, didn't you want to come?" He asked politely, there was no hurt in his eyes, just curiosity. That look reminded Harry of the Voldemort he once knew.

"No." Came another short response. Harry thought about all the times him and Ron had been properly fighting, (Which only happened twice to be fair) and tried a different tactic.

"Would you like some food? We have all sorts, like Chicken drumsticks, and sandwiches, and later there'll be cake too." Harry tried, immediately Ron's face lit up, as he walked towards the food table, Harry and Tom in tow, yes, Ron's love of food was an eternal thing that would never change, and while he was still young it could be used to easily cheer him up. Tom looked at Harry in wonder, amazed at how easily Harry had turned the boy's mood around.

Watching Ron pile food onto his paper plate, Harry tried to strike up a conversation, careful to try to not remind the young boy of his previous bad mood.

"My favourite is the treacle tart, what's yours?" He asked politely, trying to hold back any emotions of frustration that threatened to surface, he knew he couldn't be angry at Ron for being so aggressive, but it hurt him slightly.

"I love the chicken drumsticks, it's my favourite, but my brothers always steal my food, or they'll ask for the drumsticks. I'm the youngest, except for Ginny, but she doesn't count, so I get whatever's left." He ended with a sulky voice.

"Well you can have as much as you want here, no-one will take it from you, promise." Harry whispered conspiratorially, "I'll make sure." Harry shot Ron a cheeky grin, that delighted the ginger boy.

"I'm Ron," He stuck a pudgy hand out to take Harry's, " will you be my friend?"

"Yes, definitely!" Harry said, vibrating with excitement. Tom watched on in curiosity, slightly too far away to have heard the whispering.

"Will you be my friend too?" Tom asked in an odd voice. He didn't sound particularly rejected, in fact he didn't appear to like Ron at all, which was rather odd.

"Uh, ok." Came Ron's reluctant but still happy reply. Apparently the prospect of having a new friend that would protect his food outweighed the downside allowing another friend into the circle. It was clear to Harry from his voice that he didn't really want to be Tom's friend, but he was doing it to be polite, or his mother had told him to make plenty of friends. This was apparently clear to Tom as well, though he didn't say so.

The rest of the party was spent with Harry and Tom meeting and making friends with most of the other children at the party, it was very tedious for Harry, who was technically 21 at this point, but he got through it only with the comradery of Ron, munching away the whole time. He did want to give everyone a chance, since his circle had been rather limited at school, but Harry hadn't grown up with that many friends, he could manage a few, but he'd probably be useless at ten or more people generally.

At the end of the party, Molly had seemed thrilled that the youngest Weasley boy had made not one, but two friends, "He's been having difficulty socializing you know, " she had whispered to Lily, "I'm really pleased he got on so well with your boys, especially young Harry, he seems completely charmed with him." At which point Harry had received a pleased look from Lily, which Harry very artfully pretended to not notice, still listening to Ron babble at him.

"I was worried about Harry socializing as well, he's, well, mature." She tried to explain, "Anyway I'll, uh, see you at the next order meeting?" She looked incredibly nervous now, maybe she realised Harry was listening, and didn't want to damage his self-esteem? Probably.

After the room was totally empty, Tom turned to Harry, "That was fun, wasn't it?" he questioned.

"Yes it was." Harry was still in state of giddy euphoria from spending time with his best friend, and wasn't really registering what Tom was saying.

"What did you think of Ron?" Tom asked him, suspicion leaking into his voice.

"I really liked him," Replied Harry, sobering up as he realised the serious tone of the other boy, this seemed important to him. "Why? Didn't you? You wanted to be his friend too."

"Yes, I liked him too." It was a very obvious lie, but Harry didn't have time to question it before Sirius swooped in and lifted Harry under his armpits, James mirroring the action on Tom.

"Now, boys, It's only three o'clock, so you still have a few hours before bed, which means…. More Quidditch!" Sirius announced theatrically, walking towards the Garden, James following, before Lily and Remus could stop him.

They went to bed that night exhausted, grinning, and clutching trinkets and books, dragons sitting in tiny cat beds on bedside tables. The dragons must have been a huge compromise between Lily and James over whether they could get a pet or not.

"Harry?" Came a small tired whisper.

"Yes?"

"I had a really good day today. Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Happy Birthday. Tom."

* * *

It was 4 months later that Harry found himself faking reading. Turned out, when it came to books Remus was just as excitable as Sirius. Every time Harry slowly spelled a word out phonetically, and got it right, Harry could swear he heard a small, stifled, dog-like squeal. Harry tried really hard to pretend it was difficult, but he knew he had picked up on it too quickly, the usual time taken learning to read was about 6 – 15 months. Harry already had a bit of a reputation for being a child prodigy, so he just had to stretch it out for another month or so.

Tom was struggling to keep up with Harry, but was still making leaps and bounds beyond other children, every time he was shown up by Harry he was _supposedly_ inspired to try harder the next time. It was slightly surprising that Voldemort was letting Harry show him up, but then again it was more realistic for a toddler, Voldemort was clearly just better at pretending.

Since the birthday party Harry had been trying to be more polite with Tom, but every time he was actively nice it left him with a dirty feeling, like greasy skin. He basically still just tolerated him, and Tom had noticed, but still made the most of it by grabbing Harry's hand at every opportunity. He knew he should have nipped that in the bud. He'd stop it if it got out of control, but it may be difficult, Lily had been encouraging it, she found it very cute, and seemed to be pleased that they were getting on so well.

On the plus side, quidditch had been wonderful, he was flying, and because of his moment of stupidity 4 months ago, he was free to fly as he wanted, without pretending, without limits, (Well except the 15 meters one on the broom). He was so happy that he had let that slip through the grate.

Harry was really starting to get tired of sharing a room with Tom, he had started speaking to Harry late at night, when all Harry wanted to do was to sleep. He talked about things he liked and things he didn't, and his day, and told terrible, atrocious, _awful_ stories. He had made very pointed remarks about it around his parents, but they just seemed to laugh it off, telling Tom not to stay up so late. Harry was trying to work up the courage to ask his parents for his own bedroom. He might even be able to decorate it himself, ok, no, he might get to pick the colour of the wallpaper, but still! The pastel blue in his current room was a bit garish to be honest,(Oh god, he was emulating Percy,) he'd prefer a navy colour, red, or something less bright.

He wasn't going to ask for a while, his parents probably wouldn't take it well, and then he'd have to deal with all sorts of emotional sharing, which sounded like perfect torture. Besides, Tom would be upset, and Harry really didn't want to have to deal with _that_. Actually, Tom had been acting strange lately, the first incident had been about a week ago.

Harry had finished getting dressed, and started wandering down the stairs to breakfast. Tom hadn't been there when Harry had woken up, so he assumed he had just gone down without him. That was odd, usually he woke Harry up the moment he was out of bed, he hoped he hadn't overslept, in the past he'd used an old fashioned alarm clock, or one of his dorm mates would wake him up. Before that he was woken up by aunt Petunia banging on his cupboard door, or dust falling onto his bed from the heavy steps of his uncle or cousin.

He had entered the full kitchen to see two pairs of eyes falling on him, and one faced down.

"Oh good, you're awake, I was just about to come up." Lily smiled, putting a bowl of Cheerios on the table. Tom was sitting at the table already, "Where the wild things are" open on his lap, as he absently scooped cornflakes into his mouth, taking a few seconds before chewing. He was completely entranced. He mouthed the words ever so slightly once he'd finished his mouthful, picking up the second spoonful, letting it hang in the air. Finally he glanced at Harry, as he sat on the chair opposite him.

"Oh, morning Harry," he blushed, "Sorry I didn't wake you up." He snapped the book shut and started shoveling cornflakes at a rate Ron himself would be proud of, before grabbing the book and running upstairs, presumably to get dressed. James noticed his puzzled look, and leaned over his paper,

"I think Tom wanted to practice his reading." He explained in a whispering tone. "Don't mention it to him though, It might upset him." After a nod, James ruffled his hair and returned to his paper.

Something similar had happened a few days after, when Harry had come down to breakfast to no Tom at all, he had searched for him, and found him outside on his broom, practicing going quite fast. He wasn't the best at it, but he was decent at sharp turns.

It seemed Tom was on a mission of improvement, and over the next month Tom had been out of bed before Harry, reading or flying, and keeping Harry up all night babbling about the usual things. In the meantime, Harry had been taking the advantage of the lack of a shadow constantly following him, and had been sneaking into the library. The first time he had seen the two story room, he had felt a little bit sick. He was sure Hermione would have murdered Harry if she knew he owned all of these books without sharing them, even if he didn't know.

It was certainly no Hogwarts library, but it was very large, and Harry could swear that there were plenty of muggle books jammed in here and there. Luckily for him, it was not a regularly used room. In fact, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, and whenever Harry went in there he was sure to scuttle to his room to change before anyone caught him.

At the moment, all research meant was finding any books on the subject, which was proving very difficult, since the books seemed to be organised in no particular order.

Well. At least he had started searching for a way home.


	6. Revelations, Revelations

After an incredibly long year and a half of slowly working his way through the Potter Library, Harry had finally found a relevant book.

See, the thing about book searching in a personal library is that there are no organisational signs, or helpful labels. There isn't a way of searching through the whole library immediately, or at least not that Harry knew. This meant that the only way he was going to find something on dimension travel was skimming through every possible book in the impossibly large room.

It wasn't quite as bad as one might think, some books were in a completely different language, probably Latin, and usually he just threw them aside, since he couldn't read them anyway. Others were clearly on different things entirely, like magical creatures, or basic potions, and Harry would need only put them back on the shelf.

It had been a rather sunny day, Tom was playing quidditch with his father and Sirius, Harry had claimed feeling sick, and was supposedly in bed having a nap.

He reached a particularly clean shelf, missing an inch of dust like the others. It had still obviously not been touched for decades, but it must have been one of the last shelves visited by the owners. He knew it looked promising when the first book he opened was titled 'Odd magical theory for beginners'.

Sure enough, the entire shelf was full of books that Xenophilius Lovegood might have drooled over, including Dimension travel.

He wiped the dust from the cover of the small, thin book, the gateway home, to Hermione, and Ginny, and Ron, and everyone else. He delicately opened the fragile-looking book, for fear it would disintegrate in his hand.

"Gateways and portals, a Guide to This Universe and Others"

This was it. This was what he needed to leave.

He was about to start reading, when he was pulled from his trance.

"HARRY," Came a distant yell from Lily, "TIME FOR LUNCH!" He closed the book with a satisfying snap, putting it back on the shelf, not taking his eyes off it as he slowly walked away. After a moment of consideration, he snatched it back up and ran for his bedroom.

As he ate lunch, all he could think of was the book, hidden, in his drawer, under his clothes, in his room. He barely took in what his parents were saying, until a familiar name popped up.

"Dumbledore should be arriving quite soon, so …"

"Dumbledore?" Tom interrupted, having clearly been engrossed with his own thoughts.

Ah yes, he had made himself quite a friend of the family since their fourth birthday. He had missed the party entirely, turning up the very next day. It was quite a clear memory.

" _Hello there, my name is Professor Albus Dumbledore." He smiled, leaning down ever so slightly over the two boys._

" _You must be young Tom, and you must be Harry."_

" _Hello Professor." Tom smiled back._

" _Hello. It's nice to meet you." Harry could hardly stop himself from grinning at the man, it was nice to see him again after so long._

" _Now, I hear it was your birthday tomorrow, I apologise for not being at your party, but I had some urgent business to attend to. I hope this makes up for it." He explained, presenting them with two packages._

 _Tom immediately tore into his, and Harry quickly followed suit, pulling out a pair of woolen, maroon socks. Looking over, he saw Tom with a pair of turquoise ones. Although Tom looked slightly perplexed, Harry couldn't help but smile at the first non-colour-coded gift he had received in three years._

" _Thank you!" Harry exclaimed, already pulling on the hideous socks. Tom, having seen Harry's enjoyment, quickly copied him, smiling a thank you to Dumbledore._

 _Dumbledore gave Harry an intense look, possibly not expecting such an enthusiastic response. Lily looked on, defeated, at the unmatching socks. James just had an amused face the entire time._

 _Suddenly, Harry felt something in his head, it was indescribable, but he still knew what it was, he recognised it from the last time. It was the feeling of a mental poke at his supposedly 'perfect' occlumency shields. He quickly looked to Dumbledore, who gave a minute shake of his head to Lily and James, who suddenly sobered._

 _Tom,who was on the floor shoving his equally hideous socks over his own socks had missed the moment entirely._

"Yes Tom, Dumbledore, we told you he was coming over later. Harry dear, are you feeling better? He wants to talk to you both about something quite important." Lily's face was concerned.

"Yes mum." He acknowledged.

"Good, now, if you're both finished; wash your hands and make yourselves presentable, honestly." She chided, looking at the mud covering Tom's shirt, apparently he'd fallen off his broom.

When both children were clean, and wearing their latest pair of Dumbledore Socks™ (from their fifth birthday, salmon for Harry, and neon orange for Tom) they were led by James into the drawing room, a recently repainted room that Tom had begun to frequent.

"Hello professor." Harry greeted politely, as he himself was greeted with the mandatory mental poke that accompanied every Dumbledore visit. He had no idea why he kept doing it, it probably wasn't going to go away. At least it wasn't meant to be threatening, he knew that it was a very concerning issue for the order.

"Hello my boys, how are you?" He smiled back at them, giving no sign (as usual) of the mental probe.

After a brief ramble from Tom about quidditch, Dumbledore's face became serious.

"Tom, Harry, have you ever wondered about the scars on your foreheads?" He asked.

Tom looked confused, clearly not knowing what to say, while Harry was breathless. Wow. He was going to have this talk with them. Right now. Here. In the drawing room. God, where was this when he actually _was_ five.

"Well, when you were babies, a very dangerous wizard was fighting against the ministry. He had many supporters, and he wanted to get rid of all the muggleborns in the magical community. He fought with dark spells, and dangerous people. One night, he came to the house you lived in. He came, to kill you both." He was cut off by a shocked gasp from Tom, and a still shocked silence from Harry, who was fairly sure he'd stopped breathing several minutes ago.

"He stupefied your parents, who tried very hard to protect you both, and sent the killing curse at you." He paused.

"No one knows how you survived that night, but you were found soon after by Sirius, and when your parents were awoken, they discovered the remains of the man, Voldemort. They decided to bring and raise you here." He finished.

"But.. Why here?" Asked Tom, who seemed to accept the story.

"Well, you remember I mentioned he had many followers? Although he had somehow been stopped by you that night, his followers were still at large, very dangerous people. Your friend young Neville, his family was attacked in the early morning after Voldemort was defeated, if his parents had not been here at the time, they may have been killed.

Voldemort's followers, after hearing of the demise of their master, wanted to come after you both, which is why you are here. It is protected, and it is safe. That is why your mother never takes you out, and few people come here." Dumbledore explained, gently.

Tom looked as though his entire world view was changing, and Harry tried to mimic the look as Dumbledore turned his gaze to him. To be honest, Harry had figured that was why they never left the manor, not that they had ever really asked to, it wasn't exactly a cramped place.

"Why are you telling us now?" Harry asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer.

"Well, the last of Voldemort's followers have been arrested, or cleared of any charges, and your parents wanted you to be able to experience the world now that you are both nearly six. There is, however, one last thing that you need to know. Because of all of this, you are both incredibly famous in the magical world. Your friends know your story, but have been asked personally by me and your parents to not mention it to you. We really didn't want to ruin your innocence, but it would be unfair to keep it from you any longer."

Harry remembered how his own Dumbledore had waited a good 16 years to tell him anything, and wondered if the same would be repeated here, since everything they had been told was common knowledge in the wizarding world.

"Why did he want to hurt us?" Harry asked, innocently.

Something flashed in Dumbledore's eyes, but his face remained unchanged.

"He was insane, and your family is known for your mother's muggleborn status. Who knows what he was thinking when he tried to hurt you as well." Dumbledore passed off.

Huh. Figures.

"Thank you for being so mature about this boys. Now, I hear from your mother that you, Harry, are feeling a bit poorly, so I should leave you to your rest." Dumbledore smile returned.

Tom looked too engrossed in his own thoughts to even register that Dumbledore was leaving. Harry began to leave along-side Dumbledore when Tom grabbed his hand.

"I'm feeling a bit sick. I think I caught your illness." He grimaced, lacing his fingers with Harry's in a familiar way. Harry had never gotten round to stopping that, but he made it quite clear that it wasn't welcome. " I think I'm going to rest as well."

Excellent.

* * *

When Tom seemed to be asleep, Harry reached into his drawer, pulling out the book gently. It was unbelievably thin. He began to read.

Harry personally wasn't the biggest fan of reading, especially not non-fiction, but this was hypnotic. Maybe it was the knowledge that this would get him home that kept his interest, but it didn't matter.

Page after page of flicking through the debate of whether it was possible or not, until finally, a mention of the way it worked.

" _Many theorists believe that to invoke something as powerful as dimension travel, one would need an equally powerful source. Although it could be invoked in many ways, such as runes, rituals, or of course the philosopher's stone, there must be a source of magic that this medium transfers. To use a muggle term, as a battery to a light bulb, there must be power to invoke the change._

 _Many have argued that phoenixes are the only known creature to travel through dimensions freely, and may possibly act as a medium, helping those who wish to travel to the other side."_

That was it. That was all that it said. It then carried on to a near-propaganda argument over whether it was possible or not. Frantically he flicked through, scanning each page, politics, diagrams, possible cases of disappearances that could prove it, but there was nothing more on the actual specifics of getting home.

Tears started forming in his eyes as the overwhelming urge to panic came over him. He violently wiped them away, jumping out of the bed and running through the manor, right back to the library.

He threw the book onto the dusty shelf, ripping book after book from it, checking them, begging for another of them to be helpful, but his search came up empty.

"Harry?" Came the cautious voice of Tom. He must have woken up when Harry left and followed him.

In his blind rage, Harry could not take Tom at that moment, he wanted to be alone, he hated this, he hated everything about this stupid world, with stupid Voldemort.

"Just shut up Tom, shut up! Leave me alone! **I hate you!** "

Tom's eyes widened, filling with tears as he ran out of the library, and in that moment, Harry couldn't find it in him to care.

He curled up alone, against the bookcase, and cried.

* * *

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. Tom had red-ringed eyes, as did Harry. Lily seemed to chalk it up to the illness they had both supposedly been facing.

Tom kept his eyes down the entire time, facing his lap, refusing to look at Harry, not talking, except from the occasional grunt in response to a question from Lily or James.

Harry was feeling more and more guilty every minute, but goddamn it he refused to feel bad for Voldemort, literally Voldemort! This was all just an act, an evil plan to…

To..

Well Harry didn't actually know. He'd thought about it for years, but it was never apparent what his plan was. Even with all the subterfuge, when he could have slaughtered anyone at any point over the past four years, and yet he didn't. He could have imperiused everyone at their last birthday, the full order and Dumbledore himself, and yet he didn't.

He found himself thinking about it all evening, having been engrossed in a way home, he had never discovered Voldemort's plan, and every theory he had was disputed by the small Hermione-voice in his head.

Even as he got into bed, opposite from a still sombre Tom, staring at him, he couldn't figure out his angle. What was his plot?

It was then, in the dark, lying in bed, that Harry sudden got a sinking feeling about Tom.


	7. A Day Out

Ever since Harry had screamed at Tom, nearly four months ago, Tom had been slightly colder towards him. Harry didn't know kids this young could hold a grudge this long, but then again, Tom was very advanced for his age. Which he was. His age. Of six.

Harry was still pushing down feelings of guilt for everything he'd ever done to him. Whoever this boy was. He looked like Voldemort. He acted, sometimes, just as Voldemort would. They shared the same look when a new puzzle arose, eyes narrowing as cogs visibly turned. The same laugh, though lighter, childish. Because that's what Tom was. A _child_.

Ever since he'd realised this, he had been trying to make it up to Tom. Everything he possibly could, holding hands, even initiating the contact, helping him with everything he could. He' even been letting him win in quidditch. Through all this, Tom seemed delighted at each turn, but something was different now. There was less of a childishness to him now.

Whatever Harry had broken, may never come back. No matter how many times Tom smiled at him, or laughed, or acted like everything was normal, Harry knew there was something wrong.

* * *

Harry had a plan. He was going to meet Hermione.

He'd been planning this for months now, turning it over in his mind, because it was now, or never.

When Harry was at Hogwarts, they had celebrated Hermione's birthday each year with a full day in the library, weekend or not. She told them once about the best birthday she'd ever had, when she turned seven.

In a week.

Her parents had taken her to the natural history museum. Apparently she'd gotten a postcard from the gift-shop. This was where she was going to be the day after her seventh birthday. September 20th.

In a week.

All he needed to do was convince his parents to take him. If he messed this up, that was it. He had no idea how he'd get to see her again until Hogwarts. He just couldn't wait that long, especially now he had Ron.

Ron had been visiting almost as constantly as Neville, Molly clearly enjoying one less child on her hands at any given time. Tom had maintained his weird, observatory stance towards Ron, preferring to go practice Quidditch, or read a book. As lovely as having Ron around was, it emphasized the Hermione-shaped hole in his life.

He was walking to the living room now, the key to his plan clutched in his slightly sweaty palms.

A few months back, he had suggested Neville go to the Natural history museum for his Birthday, since it had so much about plants. Neville had been quickly thrilled by the suggestion.

He had asked Neville to pick this up for him.

* * *

" _Harry, my parents said they'd take me!" Neville bounced excitedly._

" _That's great, Neville, I hope you have fun, when are you going?" Harry replied, grinning in relief. His plan had a chance._

" _We're going next week, mum said there's an exhibit on then, and we might as well wait to see it. It's about pre-historic habi-habitats." He answered, struggling slightly over the unfamiliar words. This was a perfect segue into what he wanted!"_

" _Wow, that's cool. Hey, could you get a bunch of pamphlets for me? About all the different exhibits, so me and Tom can go see one we like!"_

" _Sure, I'll get as many leaflets as I can, then you can decide out of all of them!" He smiled, very pleased with his own idea._

" _Thanks, Neville!"_

" _What are friends for?"_

* * *

He paused outside the door, taking a deep breath to steel himself. Pushing open the door, he changed his face to show the air of a nervous child.

"Dad?" He asked, inserting as much of his very real nerves into his voice.

"Yes, Harry?" James smiled at him, turning away from his conversation with Sirius and Remus, all of them going quiet to listen to the him.

"Well, you know how Neville went to the museum for his birthday?" After a questioning look from James he continued. "Well, when he was there, he got this, because he thought we'd like it, and I was just wondering if maybe we could go?" He finished, reaching out the pamphlet.

"Oh, 'Reptiles Now and Then', huh?" James looked over the pamphlet. "Well, I'll have to speak with your mother, it says here there'll be live animals." Well, time to go for the kill.

"Well, it's just that Tom's been really weird lately. He seems really sad. But I thought maybe this would cheer him up."

James pondered this for a moment.

"That's very considerate of you, Harry." Remus interjected approvingly.

"I uh, was thinking we could go on the 20th, that's when they're doing the main event with the live reptiles. I just thought that because Tom loves Snappy so much, maybe he could meet a real lizard." Harry asked again, barely daring to breathe.

"Yes, Tom does love that dragon. Well, that should be fine, after all, who'd want to miss the main event? I'll have a word with mum." James smiled, ruffling Harry's hair in a usual manner.

Harry grinned, leaving the room with a spring in his step. He had a chance of seeing someone he had missed so dearly for so long.

* * *

They wandered around the museum for a short time, Harry had insisted they go early, so they could have the best chance of 'seeing everything'. So far, there had been no luck in spotting Hermione. Every time he walked into another room he grew more desperate to find her.

Soon enough, the time came for the main event, the whole pretence for this day out. They made their way into a large, warm room, with an amphitheatre set-up. Harry sat in the first row, having arrived so early. The tickets seemed to be a bit pointless, since no-one checked them. He pocketed all four of them anyhow, just in case, maybe for a souvenir.

Tom seemed just as eager for the event to start as him. He kept smiling at Harry all day, something that had become quite calming for Harry now. Even then, as more families filed into the hall, he grinned, tucking his hand in Harry's.

The event was comprised of a talk about the history of reptiles, and then separate talks of different reptiles, explanations about a few species of snake, a bearded dragon, and several other reptiles. It was then that things got interesting or Harry, as the aforementioned animals were brought out.

There was a beautiful white and yellow ball python, described as 'banana pastel', a dark, spotted, western hognose, several bearded dragons, an iguana, a leopard gecko, a turtle and the most exciting one, a baby alligator. The guest speaker showed each one, before placing it back in its crate.

"Now, for the bit you probably all came for, if you'll follow us to Hall A, you'll be able to handle the animals. Please wait until after the intermission."

Everyone bounced in their seat slightly, excited at the prospect. Luckily, there were only about fifty people in the audience, only those that had come for the first show early on a Saturday were present. Soon enough everyone was pouring into the room with small enclosures, each attended by a smiling adult.

That was where things slightly went to hell.

Over the awed sounds of the audience, Harry could hear the animals. He could hear them speaking. He shouldn't be able to hear them speak. He didn't have Voldemort's soul inside him, right? So he really shouldn't be able to hear them speak. Not the squashed voice of the Hognose, or the strangled resignation of the alligator.

He felt Tom squeeze his hand, suddenly much tighter than before. Turning to look at him, he knew Tom could hear them too. They shared a scared look, Harry not having to lie for once, as genuine fear entered him.

What did this mean? This should be impossible, right? No-one had died that night, Voldemort couldn't have made a horcrux. Right? And now, Tom, whatever the fuck he was, was the same as Harry somehow, they could both hear the disgusted whine of the snakes complaining about the sticky hands of the children.

"Harry…" Tom whispered to him, sparing a paranoid glance to their parents, who were consumed in their own conversation.

"I know, Tom. I know."

"What's happening?" He sounded panicked now.

"Look, I think I know, but you have to promise to calm down."

"Ok, " Tom breathed slowly, "What do we do, is this normal?" He asked, watching the other children around them, all oblivious to the very rude comments being made by the reptiles.

"No, look, it's ok." Harry struggled to calm the other boy now, he was turning slightly red, preparing to cry, and that was when he said something he wish he hadn't.

"It's because we're special." He gasped out.

"We're what?"

"Special, see, no one else can do the things we can do. I bet we could even talk to the snakes if we wanted."

"Harry, I already know they're muggles." Tom looked at him confused now, but much calmer than before.

"No, even magical people can't do this, only we can, I promise. It's our special thing."

"How do YOU know?"

"I just do, ok? I mean, have any of our friends ever said they can do this?"

"No…"

"Exactly, because only we can. But that means we have to keep it secret, ok? It has to be our special, secret, thing."

Tom immediately seemed to like that idea, nodding quickly.

"So," explained Harry, "When you look at the snakes to pet them, don't speak, ok? Only speak when you look at mum or dad, or me."

"Why?"

"Because if you speak to them, you'll be speaking snake, and then everyone will know, and the secret will be ruined, won't it?" Harry explained it as if it was obvious.

"Oh. Yeah. Ok then." Then he smiled, and for a second, Harry had forgotten how, just a few months ago, he could have sworn this boy was a murderer.

They finally reached the Ball-nosed python. They both had a turn at holding it, keeping their faces as straight as they could as it screamed obscenities at them. When it was Harry's turn, Tom turned to speak to their parents, and Harry took the distraction the whisper to the snake.

"If you don't stop swearing, I'll break you in half." The snake went completely still in his hands. As the handler took it back, it started thrashing in his arms.

"Speaker! A speaker! Here with us!" all of the other animals turned to see the commotion.

Tom looked at Harry nervously, as Harry shot him a reassuring smile. They wandered to each animal, one by one, each giving a quick speech about its own importance, and why Harry and Tom should take it home. Tom looked convinced at one point, but Harry shook his head no each time.

It was strange, how each animal was just barely understandable, only just. The reptiles sounded the same as a dog that had learned to screech one word. The alligator was the nearest to the snakes in comprehensibility, but it still sounded pained and strangled.

All in all, Harry and Tom left behind an angry cohort of arguing animals as they left the Hall for lunch.

As they sat in the canteen Tom and Harry shared conspiratorial glances as Harry tried to wrap his head around what was going on.

"This has been a lovely day so far, hasn't it boys?" Asked Lily over their sandwiches.

"Yeah, my favourite was the hognose!" Tom laughed, probably remembering its very nasally, squashed, speech about how he was the most superior animal in the room, and how he would make for an excellent familiar.

"I liked the gecko." Harry added, remembering the filthy-mouthed animal. It was a more profuse swearer than Dudley's nasty friend Scott, and that was saying something.

"It was Harry's idea to come today, he noticed you've been a little down lately, Tom." Lily explained.

Tom turned his gaze onto the reddening Harry.

"Thanks Harry." And it really sounded like he meant it.

* * *

They were going through the dinosaur exhibit when Harry caught sight of a familiar brown nest of hair. This was it. What he came for.

He walked over towards the girl who was standing away from her parents, on the other side of the stegosaurus.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" He asked her. She jumped slightly, having been staring at the bones.

"Yes, it's really amazing. I love stegosauruses, they're my favourite dinosaur. A lot of people prefer T-rexes, or Pterodactyls, but these are my favourite, what's your favourite dinosaur?" She said this one breath. Merlin, Harry had missed her.

"They're my favourite too! Do you like all reptiles?" He asked her.

"Yes, I suppose, they're very interesting. I like most animals, especially otters, you know they're actually very intelligent, Asian short-clawed otters have been known to use rocks and pebbles as both a toy and a tool, did you know that?" She replied, curious now.

"No, I didn't. Did YOU know that there's an event about reptiles going on right now in the amphitheatre?" He asked her in turn.

"No! I had no idea, is it on all day?"

"Yeah, but you need tickets." He said, sounding put out. She mirrored him, until he produced his own tickets from his pockets.

Her face lit up.

"Who's this?" Asked Tom, having caught up with Harry.

"Oh, this is uh…" He trailed off.

"Hermione Granger. Pleasure." She reached out to shake each boy's hand.

"I'm Harry, and this is Tom." Harry smiled back at her.

"Can I really have those tickets?" She asked, seeming unsure of herself.

"Yeah, they didn't even check them, and they last all day. It's great! They tell you all about reptiles, and then you get to hold and touch them!" Harry smiled.

By this point, both sets of parents had moved round to see the children getting on.

"Mum, Dad, this is Harry, and Tom," She pointed to each boy in turn. "They said we can have these tickets to a reptile event, please can we go?" She asked with begging eyes.

"Well, if Tom and Harry's parents are ok with it?" Her mother looked to James and Lily meaningfully.

"Oh, yes, of course! We don't need them anymore, and I'm sure you'll love it." James replied.

"Mum, can Hermione come over to play some time?" Harry asked, boldly. He was sweating slightly.

"Oh, well I'm not sure if Hermione's parents would be…" James started.

"Oh, no, that would be great. Hermione's been having a bit of difficulty with friends at school, and she seems to get on so well with your boys." Her mother mock-whispered to them. As she said this, Hermione turned slightly red, but Harry sent her a reassuring look, which seemed to quell her self-conscious worry.

After arrangements were made for an adult-tea and child-play meet up, the two families parted. Harry seeming very happy with himself, clutching Tom's hand. They both smiled at each other. On the way home, Tom fell asleep against Harry's shoulder, and Harry couldn't help but fall asleep too, with the wonderful day he'd had.


	8. Carrying On

Despite what Harry always had always thought, many wizarding homes were very much capable of having functioning muggle technology. Generally speaking, it was much more of a cultural aspect that most wizards don't possess electrical items such as televisions and dishwashers.

It was because of this, Harry had been rather surprised the first time the Potters had bought a TV, but he had quickly remembered it was only places like Hogwarts, with so much magic, that a TV would have been rendered a metal box. Even with how old the Potter mansion was, the fact that it had not been inhabited for years, and the, now, small population, there was barely even a feel of it in the air.

Harry had never really been a fan of the television, not that he had ever been allowed to sit down and watch it, but he remembered Dudley sat in front of one for hours, gaping, watching everything and anything that appeared on the screen.

Perhaps it was because of this experience that Harry did not feel comfortable watching TV for more than an hour at a time, but it wasn't something he was going to change, and he didn't see why he should have to.

But here he was, watching TV with Tom and Hermione, who had, over the past year, become a familiar sight around the giant house.

Both boys had been warned with extreme trepidation by their parents not to mention magic under any circumstances. Hermione was, as far as they were aware, a muggle, and that meant they were, as far as she was aware, muggles too.

Tom looked up from the documentary about wolves to glance at Hermione, who was furiously taking notes about the creatures. She was using Tom's birthday gift to her, a gorgeous red notebook made to look like some sort of tome one would find among identical books, on the shelf of someone rather rich or pretentious. Although she had only received the book two weeks ago, it was already half way full, thanks to Harry's gift, a collection of textbooks about an assortment of subjects; animals, chemistry, and Shakespeare.

After a fond smile, Tom returned his gaze to the wolves, currently nuzzling each other. Hermione seemed to be Tom's favourite friend, perhaps because she shared his thirst for knowledge, if not tenfold.

Eventually the show came to an end, and the three ran up to the hosts' bedroom to play. They were in the middle of a puzzle when Hermione went uncharacteristically quiet.

"Hermione, what is it?" Harry nudged her.

"Well, it's nothing really…" She trailed off as Tom also noticed her odd behaviour.

"Come on, you can tell us!" Tom smiled at her.

"Well, it's this book…" She walked over to her rucksack, discarded on the floor, and began rummaging through it. Harry's heart skipped a beat when she pulled out 'Matilda'.

"What is it?" Tom looked at the book, puzzled.

"The girl in it, Matilda, she can do …things… and, well, so can I."She let out a large breath.

Both boys exchanged suddenly knowing glances.

"What kinds of things?" Harry edged towards her as Tom stood up.

"The other day, I… Look, I'll show you, because if I say it, it'll sound silly." She beckoned them out of their room, leading them to the rarely-used playroom. She stopped them about five feet from the bookshelf.

"Just watch, okay?" She asked them, looking slightly desperate. After both boys nodded, concerned, she took a deep breath, and turned towards the bookshelf.

Reaching out her hand, she scrunched up her nose, as if she was thinking very hard, and suddenly a book shot out, straight into her outstretched fingers. Opening her eyes, she stared down at the book as if she didn't quite believe it herself.

Tom seemed speechless, but Harry smiled at her.

"You see, I didn't really know… And I couldn't just, without, you know, and I-" Harry cut off her nearly tearful ramble by grabbing her empty hand. Still looking at her, he reached out his other arm, and a book flew into it. She dropped the book, and gaped at him, shocked.

Tom, getting the message, walked over, grabbed her other hand, and repeated Harry's actions, and after a moment, yet another book shot out at them, into Tom's hand like a magnet.

Hermione looked between them, crying now, and she engulfed them both in a hug; smearing their shoulders with snot and tears.

"It's okay, Hermione, we know." Harry smiled into her bushy head.

* * *

After a very uncomfortable discussion with both sets of parents, everyone was bombarded with many, many, many, questions, and the notebook was dangerously close to being full of facts, details, and even small nonsense ramblings from any member of the family.

Hermione was delighted to discover that Lily was also a 'muggleborn', and Lily was excited to have someone to share her personal account of the world with.

Thanks to her discovery, Harry's parents were now comfortable with having Hermione around Ron and Neville, which was something they considered too risky before. As much as he loved Ron, Harry had to admit he was a bit dense, and the difference in cultures was just so big that there was no doubt Ron would let something slip. It had taken forever to explain television to him, and from that it was unlikely that he would understand most of the things Hermione

would say.

But now, the trio was back together, all friends, just the same as they'd always been, but this time with Neville! And of course, Tom.

Hermione loved asking questions about wizarding culture to Ron, who was so deeply immersed in it, and Ron returned just as many questions about muggles to her. Harry often thought it was very reminiscent of his father. Although it sometimes felt a bit like baby-sitting, since they were so much younger than him, and sometimes it made him feel a bit weird, but he didn't know what he'd do without them. They were… comforting to him.

And he needed it. The vague book had been a blow, but he wasn't going to give up just like that. He very possibly may have been avoiding thinking about it lately, but after meeting with Hermione, he had resumed his slow combing through the Potter library. It was so disorganised, there could be any number of books on the subject hidden among the shelves, he couldn't just give up after finding one unhelpful book. He just got ahead of himself is all.

But there was one thing that had been distracting him quite a lot lately, and it wasn't his friends, it wasn't his quest home, no it wasn't even tutor homework, it was his core.

It was growing.

Harry had always had an above average magical core, after all, there weren't many 13-year-olds that could cast a patronus, but he had noticed not only could he cast spells with his regular, not-aged-down core, but much more complex spells, spells that most adults could find challenging.

He had first noticed this in the library, a few months ago.

* * *

Harry was trying to reach a high up shelf for a particular book that was placed spine-inwards, meaning he couldn't see the title. What he usually did in this situation was climb up the shelves, but noticing how heavy his frame had been getting, no longer a toddler, he thought he'd try a new tactic.

Facing his hands down, he tried to direct his unbridled accidental magic towards the floor, to float himself up gently. He had been practicing with his accidental magic of late, while it was in its easily controlled state, before he turned eleven, he thought it would be helpful to learn such a skill. It seemed this very situation was what he had practiced for.

So imagine his surprise when he found himself shooting into the ceiling at quite an aggressive speed.

Moving his palms up, he tried to slow himself down, only to propel himself to the ground just as fast! It took several minutes of him shooting up and down, before he started to calm himself down, putting a considerable amount of effort into slowing his 'flying'. It was very reminiscent of having jet packs attached to the palms of his hands.

Landing roughly, albeit safely, on the floor, Harry slid down to the ground, and curled up, panting, trying to calm himself down. It was a wonder he didn't scream the house down.

After a few minutes, he stood up, deciding to risk climbing the shelves.

* * *

Ever since that day, Harry had been sneaking off to the library to not only research, but practice the control over his growing magic.

Many might say that this was amazing, he was so powerful, he could perform any spell, but Harry felt totally hopeless, it was as though he had lost all ability to do magic. It was a huge set back, and he could barely cast a summoning spell without it slamming his hands so hard it left the skin red.

He had hidden the bruise from Hermione's reveal day for a whole week before it went away.

He had been re-learning how to do magic, which had been really fucking stressful what with everything else that had been going on.

Alas, onwards he must march.

* * *

"Happy birthday boys!" Smiled Dumbledore, presenting two well-wrapped pairs of socks.

"Thank you!" Harry and Tom chorused, taking the gifts, one much more hysterically than the other. The sheer joy Harry expressed at receiving socks from Dumbledore every year confused everyone, and it had become a running joke among the household, and now the guests, watching on, flabbergasted.

They watched on now as Harry ripped off his shoes, and pulled on moldy-orange and neon-green polkadot socks over his already bare feet. Lily had gotten rather upset when Harry refused to put on any socks in preparation for Dumbledore's arrival.

Tom also pulled on his neon-pink, neon-yellow striped socks, though with much less gusto.

As was customary, Harry felt a mental probe poke his brain, and saw Dumbledore minutely shake his head at his parents. Why did they keep checking? The mental shields were unlikely to just 'disappear'.

After the party resumed, Harry saw Dumbledore speaking with his parents in hushed tones. Whatever he was saying, Lily looked furious, and James looked completely shocked. They both turned to look at someone, but before he could see who it was, Sirius announced that cake was "about to commence", and Harry was swept towards a table.

Oh well, cake.

* * *

"I don't care James, I don't want him here any more!"

Harry halted in his journey back from the toilet to listen at his father's study door, drawn in by his mother's screaming voice.

"Lily…" Came his dad's reproachful tone.

"How can you defend him, he put our whole family at risk!"

"I… Look Lils, I know, I agree, I'm not defending him! I'm just saying that maybe we should ask him about it before just banishing him from our lives."

They were still arguing? The party ended hours ago.

"James! He nearly got us all killed! Tom! Harry! You! ME! What other side could there be other than being a dirty, scumbag, death-eater?"

Oh god, was this?

"Yes, but Lils, he begged for our lives, all of our lives, he made a stupid, twatty, mistake, but he tried to fix it, and look, he did! We're alive aren't we?"

"I DON'T CARE JAMES, HE COULD HAVE KILLED MY BABIES!" Lily was crying now, Harry peaked through the slightly ajar door. He watched as James walked up to her, wrapping her in a hug.

"Yes i know, i'm sorry, you're right.I'm sorry. Shhh, please, it's ok. But what can we tell the kids? They know him, we can't just cut him off entirely, he babysits, they call him Sev, we can't just stop that, can we?"

After a moment, Lily sniffled, takin deep, heaving breaths.

"Yes we can. If they ask, we'll explain our choice. I don't want my children to associate with someone that nearly killed them." James sighed, very clearly not enjoying her decision.

"Honestly Evans, First you want me to get on with Snivelus, then you don't, then you do, then you don't again," He chuckled, "make up your mind!" Lily couldn't help but laugh at this slightly, wiping her tears on his shoulder.

Harry decided this was his cue to fuck right off and pretend he never saw this.

Crawling back into bed, Tom spoke up across the room.

"You took ages, you got the runs or something?"

"No, just got distracted talking to Creus." Harry whispered back.

"He's too talkative for a painting." Tom yawned.

"He's probably just pleased to not be in storage anymore, Hermione would have been really freaked out by him before." Harry's eyelids began to droop.

"Mmm, 'night." Tom mumbled into his pillow.

"Mmmm." Harry responded.

They were both still wearing their socks.


End file.
